Death Nest
by Captain Zangano
Summary: Burying the Death Note outside has terrible consequences. Gift!fic for Reminiscent-Afterthought.
1. Misa

**Death Nest**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note

The wasps are not any particular species and were inspired by _Vespa madarina japonica_, _Polistes dominula_, and the Flesh Colored Horror Manga #3 by Junji Ito.

**Warning:** Character death.

**Author's Note:** Written for Reminiscent-Afterthought for the RLt Spring Gift exchange!

Thanks to MissScorp for looking this over before posting. :)

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Misa Amane was not stupid. She knew, as Light leaned over and whispered instructions in her ear and claimed that he'd love her forever if she succeeded, that he was lying. Some small part of her knew that he was only using her; he didn't love her, and probably never would. But reality had never been kind to her, and she had decided after the tragic death of her parents, that she really didn't much care for reality anymore. So she built her fantasy around her instead, surrounded by gothic lolita dresses, black bats and lace, lipstick and too much make-up, and morbid dolls. And after Light had avenged her parents, Misa had found someone to cling to in place of reality. She would do as Light asked, because maybe one day it would make him happy. And maybe, for an instant, her fantasy would come true, and he would hold her close, and they would live happily after ever for a few seconds. Even if it didn't, she would do all she could for him: she already had her fantasy; she would do her best to make his dream of a perfect world come true.

Only, there was a problem as she walked through the park and carefully approached the tree where she should dig. It was the right tree, she was sure of it, but an enormous papery wasp's nest hung low from one of the branches, so low it nearly touched the ground as the tree branch bent under its weight. Misa stepped back as a few guard wasps emerged from the nest and flicked their wings in agitation as they stared at her with red bulbous eyes. They were large, easily the size of her hand, with a long nasty looking stinger at the tip of each burgundy colored abdomen. Wasps were generally territorial and very protective of their nest, and it looked like theses were no exception. Misa took a few more cautious steps back, and lifted her phone to dial Light.

She only wanted to hear his voice. Maybe, if she did, she'd get enough courage to walk up to the nest and start digging underneath. She had to be careful what she said on the phone, they both did, but maybe somehow he could help. Light had saved her before.

He answered on the fifth ring. "What?" Light asked irritably.

"Light, I," Misa began.

"Misa, I'm busy with the case. You know that. _Remember what I told you_. I'll see you next week. Please don't bother me again."

"But Light," she blurted out, "there's wasps."

"Why are you calling me about wasps? Just get an exterminator or something." Then he hung up.

She couldn't call an exterminator. What if they started digging around after getting rid of the wasps? What if they wanted to study them instead, and she was never allowed near the site again? Wasps of such a large size would surely attract unwanted attention. Misa looked at the nest. She knew what she had to do.

Misa leaned forward, and slowly moved her hand down toward where she needed to dig. Maybe if she was slow enough, the wasps wouldn't feel threatened, and she could get what Light wanted, and they would be happy together. Misa moved closer, and the wasps angrily snapped their wings.

A wasp landed on her hand and stung, and it burned, a white-hot pain that traveled up her arm and hurt so horribly that it took her breath away. More wasps flew closer, zeroing in on the intruder who had been pheromone marked by a sting. They looked at Misa with cruel red eyes, and curved their abdomens in preparation, exposing their needle-like stingers even more.

Misa screamed.

And that was the last thing she knew.


	2. Light

If there was one thing Light had learned from working on group projects, it was that it was easier to make sure things were done right when he did them himself. (Which made him popular among his classmates - especially the lazy ones.) He stared at the phone in his hand. Misa hadn't called back since that day she whined about bees or something. She should have dug up the Death Note and started writing names by now.

He watched L out of the corner of his eye, wondering if the detective was about to die. Maybe his actions were already controlled. Would Misa be able to remember L's real name? Not likely. What was the point of having a devoted minion if she flaked out when it really mattered? But maybe, just maybe, she would pull through eventually.

So Light waited, and pretended to work on the case, even as he surreptitiously clenched his fists in rage at the delay. What was taking Misa so long? Didn't she realize how important it was to put the plan into motion? And here he was, unable to make a move since Rem was bound to him, trapped enough that L might as well have been holding him prisoner again.

He disguised his annoyance as worry. "I haven't heard from Misa in nearly a week," he mused out loud.

No-one else had heard from her, and when Matsuda called, her current manager hadn't seen her in days either.

Light nearly ground his teeth in frustration. Idiots. He was surrounded on all sides by incompetence.

"If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself," he hissed under his breath.

And so he left late at night to dig up the second Death Note himself.


	3. L

The wasps made their nests with order and precision, chewing the wood pulp, paper pulp and carefully expanding their nest with each hexagonal brood cell. The papery nest stretched long and wide, deceptively strong, and covered thickly in workers. They tended the brood, fed the brood, and defended the nest against all attackers. They used what they could find to feed the young larvae: insects and meat, killed by a stinger, and chewed down into smaller pieces by powerful jaws. When the weather turned cold the colony produced reproductives to overwinter and start the cycle anew in spring. That was how they lived.

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L liked order, precision. He sat at his desk and stacked the sugar cubes on top of one another. They were flawed when you looked closely; ragged edges and missing pieces, but he chose them one after another, carefully compensating for any minute flaws in the cube, and creating perfection, order in the tower he built. But was it really order, or just an illusion?

In the same manner, he stacked and arranged the facts about the Kira case in his mind. But they didn't fit together so neatly as the sugar cubes, and just when he thought he was closing in, an assumption would crumble.

There was another notebook out there, of that L was certain. But the killings had stopped with Higuchi's death. Misa was gone, yet Light remained, even though all the other investigators were sure the case was solved. Or as solved as it would ever be with a taciturn Shinigami glaring down at them.

There was a feeling, instinctual, deep in his gut that Light was Kira again. It was in the way the boy would glance up, when he thought no-one was looking, or in the way his arrogant smile had turned into a malevolent smirk, a change too subtle for others to notice. But L noticed, and he stayed up long nights chewing on his thumb and crunching sugar cubes between his teeth. He needed to predict Kira's next move before it happened, otherwise there was a 55% chance that he would die. But the longer it took, the more uncertain he became. It wasn't like Kira to wait or bide his time.

So he watched Light and waited, watching for any hint, and movement, hoping that he'd be quick enough to counter any strike.

It was late when he saw him leave headquarters; L barely had time to leave a quick message for Watari before following silently after. The Shinigami followed as well, but didn't say anything.

The trees in the park obscured the light from the moon with their thick branches, and L followed by sound. Creeping forward, staying far enough away not to rouse suspicion.

Then after a pause, he heard a shriek, almost like the one in the helicopter, then silence. L cautiously slid forward on his stomach, gliding over decaying twigs and leaves.

He smelled something in the air, fruity, almost sweet-smelling. It wasn't until L saw Light's slumped over form and heard an angry humming sound that he realized what the smell had been. Alarm pheromone.

L glanced up, and realized too late that perhaps he had been too single-minded in his quest for Kira.


End file.
